


i will run to you now

by cyclothimic



Series: love is being drawn [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cheesy, Children, F/M, Father's Day, Future Fic, M/M, Older Characters, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4178442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyclothimic/pseuds/cyclothimic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity was here. She was standing at the door, blonde hair pulled back and glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose, clad in her favorite red coat, and looking frantic as ever. She was gesturing wildly at the waiter standing at the door and he looked perplexed like he couldn't understand a word she was saying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will run to you now

**Author's Note:**

> Oliver Queen deserves a Father's Day fic, okay?
> 
> oh, and you've been warned. this is the cheesiest fic i've ever written. it's full of so much cheese that even mice are repulsed. it's that cheesy.

_Even if a year passes, if ten years pass, I am the same_

_I_ _'m a person who didn't forget even for a single day_

_It needs to be you, you are my love_

_I can't go on without you, I need you_

_-I Need You, K.Will_

* * *

He was terribly unwilling to wake up at all this morning, as he was for the past week. But life had to happen and the world most certainly  _did not_  revolve around him. His wife taught him as much. So he just groaned several times after clearing his mind of the lingering grogginess and hauled himself out of the cold and lonely bed.

He picked up his phone from the bedside table, anticipating a text or a missed call from his wife – that would suggest she missed him as much as he missed her – only to be gripped by disappointment when he saw nothing from his wife but numerous from his friends and family. He heaved a sigh, refusing to look back at the empty bed he'd just vacated and walked out to the balcony, reading each text sent to him.

_Hey there, big brother, it's Father's Day! So as the aunt to your beautiful teenage children, figured I should wish you a Happy Father's Day! Oh, and we're having dinner tonight. You can't say no. – T_

_Oliver, as a father to another father, happy father's day. – J_

_Oliver, Thea invited us over for dinner. Do you know anything about that?_ _\- B_

_Dad! Dinah got caught up with some project at school so I have to wait for her before we get back home! Happy Father's Day! (blame your daughter for everything) – A_

_Dad, I am SO sorry! VERY sorry! I promise I'll make it up to you! – Dinah_

That last text, he hadn't expected at all. Yes, Sandra had finally told him about Connor. Well, not as much as she told him as Connor conjuring up at his door one Tuesday night eighteen years ago with a worn out Arrow backpack. His wife was understandingly quite unhappy for a few nights, but after a long talk, she'd warmed up to Connor and even treated him like her own son.

However, Oliver's relationship with the boy had been strained, because Oliver had yelled at his mother for hiding Connor from him for  _eleven_ years. Connor didn't appreciate that very much, claiming that Oliver should be to blame for this whole fiasco because he was the one who ditched them both eleven years ago.

" _You told me you miscarried!_ " he'd bellowed, pointing a vicious finger at Sandra.

Honestly, he still asked himself what he would have done if his wife hadn't pulled him away into their bedroom and calmed him down in her own way, which was sitting him down on their bed and pulling his head into her chest and stroking his hair gently and kindly, even though she was pretty frustrated in her own right. He didn't even want to think about what he'd done.

 _Happy Father's day, Pops_  –  _C_

Even Connor's way of calling him was different from Dinah and Anthony's way of calling him. He was so different.

"Have you ever thought that the reason you can't seem to communicate with Connor is because you're  _too_ similar?" his wife had once mentioned as they laid in bed at night.

No, no, he had not thought of that. Connor was stubborn. He was so headstrong that Oliver would often give up trying to talk to him about things in general. Connor was also sometimes broody. It was always as if he was in a world of his own where he would conjure the most negative things to exist in a teenager head.

Oliver could not think of anything similar between the two of them.

There was also the fact that he was fifty-one, but Connor was already twenty-nine. He could barely wrap his head around  _that_.

He dialed the number and waited for the other end to pick up.

"What's up, Pops?"

Just because he couldn't communicate with his son did not mean he wasn't proud of him. Connor was now helping his wife with managing Palmer Tech. She'd even told Oliver that one day, she might even pass the reins to Connor.

"Pops?"

"Yeah, hey," he said, snapping out of his reverie. "Thanks for the text." He nearly punched himself for that. He was getting lamer as he got older. He couldn't believe himself.

"Did you really call me to thank me for a text?"

He cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut. "We're having dinner together later tonight. I mean, your aunt Thea, your siblings, Uncle Diggle, Barry and basically everyone else." He paused for a moment. Connor waited for him to continue. "Just wondering if you want to join us." He mentally patted himself on the chest for getting the sentence out. "It's okay, though, if you have plans."

There was a momentary silence on Connor's part. Oliver figured. Why would Connor want to join him for dinner when he had a life of his own? "Sure." Oliver's eyes snapped open. "Can I bring my boyfriend?"

Oliver blinked a few times before stuttering, "S-sure. Yeah, bring him along!"

"Okay. Um, where's the dinner?"

He halted, looking up at the endless driveway stretched below him. He had a big courtyard, he realized, he also had no idea where the dinner. "You're gonna have to ask Aunt Thea about that."

Connor chuckled. "Alright."

Oliver hung up and looked down at his phone. Still nothing from Felicity.

* * *

He put the carnations he bought from the florist at the base of his father's grave and sat down criss-cross-applesauce on the grass.

"Happy Father's day, Dad," he whispered.

He wished Robert was alive. He wished  _both_  his parents were still alive. He wished his father could see what a great woman Felicity was. He wished he could see the day when his father would clap him on the back and tell him how  _right_  Felicity was for him. He wished his kids could talk and play with his parents in real life.

But then, if his father wasn't dead, had they not get on  _the Gambit_ , he'd probably still be a deadbeat who had too much money that he wouldn't know where to put it. He probably would have fathered more illegitimate children than he would ever want. He might never met Felicity or Diggle or Barry or any one of the people he called family now.

He chuckled to himself. "What a paradox, huh, Dad?"

Indeed.

He fished out his phone and swiped his finger across the screen. Still nothing from his wife.

* * *

Felicity had been away on business for a week. She'd told him there was some complications with this merger and she had to fly to China to get it all smoothed out. She'd kissed him on the lips and told him she would try to get back as soon as possible, preferably before Father's Day.

Today was Father's Day, but his wife still wasn't back.

He missed her terribly.

* * *

He never dressed up anymore. He was fifty-one, for god's sake. He'd wear whatever the hell he wanted. So when it was time for dinner, he just pulled on a grey Henley, a pair of jeans, boots and his jacket before he walked out the door.

His phone rang when he got into his car. He smiled when he saw the caller ID. "You know, when you said you'd come back at a later time, I didn't think you meant come back to Table Salt," he teased.

"Oh my god, Dad, I am  _so_ sorry!" Dinah said frantically. And then he heard her shouting at her brother to hurry up. "Your son had to get caught up in football, Dad! He couldn't be doing something more productive! He had to get caught up in freaking football!"

"Hey! You were in your  _drama club_  meeting! That's worse than football!" Anthony's muffled voice drifted through the speaker.

"Oh shut up, Tony!"

"Don't call me Tony!"

His children's squabbles never did end even when they were already in high school. Oliver was never not amused. "Alright, children, calm down. I'll just meet you at Table Salt."

"We'll see you there!"

When they hung up, he sat in his car, glaring down at his quiet phone. Felicity hadn't reached out to him  _all_  day. She'd never done that before. Felicity was the type to constantly send pictures of weird things she saw anywhere she was to the family group text. Felicity was the type to text him on occasions about random dirty blurbs she came up with in her head. Felicity was never the type to be quiet all day long.

He was starting to worry.

He figured that he'd given her enough time to reach out to him, so he scrolled to her contact and called her on his own initiative – only to reach voicemail.

"Felicity, hey, I'm just wondering where you are. I miss you."

Honestly, Father's Day didn't even feel like Father's Day anymore when his wife wasn't around.

* * *

He was pretty sure their table was loudest and the most raucous. He was also quite certain that if his wife wasn't the CEO of Palmer Tech, they'd probably be kicked out of the establishment right now.

Barry and Caitlin had come from Central City, their kids with them. Oliver had laughed and clapped Barry on the back when they told him that their children had aced their classes. Connor brought along his boyfriend, a nice man with bad hair named Kyle. Oliver was still withholding his judgment regarding the boyfriend. Diggle and Lyla came, claiming that Sara had plans at school and apologized for not joining them. Surprisingly, Laurel and Captain Lance were present too. Thea came alone, but with her arms packed with gifts for Oliver, Diggle and Barry.

"Because it's Father's Day and even though y'all may be the worst fathers I've ever seen in my life, you still deserve gifts."

Barry had feigned offence. "Excuse me?"

Thea shrugged in indifference, sitting down.

Everyone was here. It was almost like a family event. Everybody except one. He wouldn't stop checking his phone for anything from Felicity. Just anything. But there was nothing. He could hardly hone in his frustrations.

When dessert was served, he realized he wasn't the only one checking his phone and waiting for someone. Diggle, Thea, Laurel and his daughter did it too. He noticed them constantly frowning down at their mobile devices – just as he did – and glancing at the entrance – just as he did. He did all those things because he expected his wife to just magically turn up at the door and cease his worries. But he didn't understand why  _they_  did it though.

There was also the fact that Lyla kept looking at Diggle with questioning looks and he would shake his head, or his son would with Dinah, or Barry and Caitlin would with Thea, or Captain Lance would with Laurel.

"Are you guys waiting for someone?" he finally asked, unable to keep it in anymore.

Thea, Dinah and Laurel looked to him with wide eyes while Diggle just stared at him with practiced ease. "No," they said in unison.

He narrowed his eyes, about to turn on his interrogator mode at the easiest target of them all: Dinah, when he saw a familiar flash of red coat and blonde hair at the entrance over her shoulder. He looked up eagerly and eyes widened when his suspicions were confirmed.

Felicity was here. She was standing at the door, blonde hair pulled back and glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose, clad in her favorite red coat, and looking frantic as ever. She was gesturing wildly at the waiter standing at the door and he looked perplexed like he couldn't understand a word she was saying.

An inevitable smile spread out across his face and he just stood up, chair clattering loudly behind him. Felicity glanced away from the waiter to the direction of the noise and saw him already approaching her in impatient strides.

Her lips quirked into a relieved grin. She made her way towards him as well, leaving behind the confused waiter.

And then they stopped in front of each other, right in the middle of the restaurant, ignoring the busy people bustling about them. It was as if this was plucked right out of a movie itself.

His grin became impossibly wider and he released a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding since he woke up this morning, a small pocket of air that he'd been keeping in himself since she'd gone out the door six days ago.

"You're here," he said, his voice croaky and strained. His fingers twitched at his side as he yearned to yank her toward him and kissed her senseless as a fifty-one year old man and a forty-seven year old woman would.

She looked at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Well, it  _is_  Father's Day." It came out impossibly soft and much like the voice she would use whenever they laid in bed at nights and talked. "And you  _are_  the father to three of my beautiful children." He couldn't help but felt so enlightened that she considered Connor as her own. She shrugged. "I can't possibly miss it, can I, Mr. Queen?"

"Oliver," he reminded, lips parting into a beam as they were reminded of all those years ago. "Mr. Queen was my father."

She tilted her head and nodded. "Right, of course."

"Oh, just kiss the woman already!" The thing was, the person who said it wasn't even anyone who was sitting at their table. It was just a random patron sitting in the restaurant.

Oliver reluctantly tore his eyes away from his wife and took in his surroundings, trying to locate the speaker. Only he couldn't, because literally  _everyone_  was watching them. He chuckled and looked back to his wife. "We have an audience."

She hummed and took a step forward, causing their chests to press together and their lips so close he could feel the warmth and the contours. "We can't disappoint them, can we?" she whispered almost sultrily.

And their lips met.

The first time he kissed her – in the hospital lobby – his brain lit on fire and the warmth spread throughout his body. After that, he was addicted. He couldn't bear not to be with her even though he convinced himself that he  _had_ to, which was why he was just relishing every moment he could have with her in the foundry. That kiss was his salvation and his torment. He lived for her kisses and he would die with the memory of them on his lips. He dedicated his life to being with her for he knew that if he lost her, he'd lose himself. She was the half that made him whole.

This time, it felt a whole lot like that one, only without the knowledge of their splitting after the kiss. This time, he would bring her home and they drink wine and talk into the night. They'd be happy and together.

"For god's sake, you'd think they hadn't been married for more than a decade," Captain Lance complained.

"God, they're making out right in the middle of a restaurant. And they're near hundred with their ages combined!" Thea exclaimed.

"Ew," their children said simultaneously.

"We won't be doing that, right, Barry?" Caitlin asked her husband with a hint of worry in her voice.

"Your parents are…very passionate," Kyle said.

"Try being around them with all their unresolved sexual tension all those years ago," Diggle stated with ease.

Of course, he and Felicity could barely hear them. They were in a world of their own.

**Author's Note:**

> god what the hell did i just write


End file.
